Notes:
Happy Easter! Thank you so much for reading. The last chapter will be updated soon.
...
The past few days were hectic for Margaret. But undoubtedly, it was also the best and the most productive.
Right from arranging the floral arrangements in the church, the distribution of Easter greetings in the parish, to rehearsing the hymns with the choir, every task fell into Margaret's hands. Mrs. Brown remained a steadfast support to her in everything and often commended her of her creative ideas and efforts. Her ideas were beautiful, though a bit too simple for the tastes of the Milton womenfolk who love the gaudy and the garish. Mrs. Brown herself was very impressed with how it was all coming together– all thanks to Margaret. She couldn't wait for the congregation and especially the upper class women to look at Margaret's efforts and see their awe and response.
As for Margaret, she was glad that she was being useful instead of being gloomy in her home. She knew that she had too much to worry about, but Easter gave her a new vigor to face the good and the bad with equal strength. The other members were thankfully supportive too, but Margaret had a small doubt that it was on Mrs. Brown's insistence.
She didn't see Mr. Thornton much these days, the last time they met was in the bookstore. Will he come tomorrow? Obviously he would. The thought of seeing him dressed handsomely stirred in her mind..
"Margaret, I am thankful to you for your assistance. Many women see it as an opportunity to flaunt their showy ideas, but you have done a great work." Mrs. Brown kindly appreciated her in front of all.
"I am glad to be of help, Mrs. Brown. Everyone was so co-operative; without them I wouldn't have been able to do even half the work. Almost everything is settled. I hope our efforts are appreciated and well received."
"I have no doubt about that, my dear. The parishioners will be stunned indeed!"
Tomorrow will be the judging day. After a while, the women departed to their homes.
...
At the mill, Mr. Thornton was finally relieved to have a moment's peace of mind after hearing his sister prattle about some egg of a rare, exotic bird, the name he couldn't recall nor he could care. The loud sounds of his machines was much better than listening to his sister tattle about other gifts and displays she had newly installed in her home. He wondered how Watson was able to tolerate her the whole day but then realized that he was none the better himself. A good match indeed though heavy for his purse.
His thoughts drifted to Miss Hale. Since it was already a few days since he saw her, and that he couldn't stand anymore without a glance of her, he decided to walk to the hill for a little while.
He hoped he could see her there on her usual walks but unfortunately didn't. Disappointed, he started walking back when he suddenly saw her along with several other women and Mrs. Brown in the church. The sight of her stirred something deeply within him. He loved her sorely still, despite his lies to her that it ceased. She stood apart from the rest even in her plainly modest attire.
The people seemed to be standing around her listening to her every word. He realized that Miss Hale must be becoming active in church services and the upcoming Easter preparations.
He was glad of it. She was sorrowful enough, dealing with her mother's death, her lover's sudden parting, and also the dreadful gossip. She had an air of leadership in her, but not the sort of belittling people and getting work done. By the looks of the other women and Mrs. Brown, he could say that they took her on every word, mesmerized and focused. Miss Hale, knowingly or unknowingly had the caliber to bring people together.
He longed to see her tomorrow in church. Even though he could not be close to her, he could at least bask in her lively presence as secretly as he could.
After gazing at her for some more time, he started walking back to the mill, content.
...
At Crampton, Dixon and Mary were busy preparing the ingredients for tomorrow's dishes. The dough was being kneaded by Mary while Dixon made sure of the vegetables and the ham preparations. Mr. Hale and Tom Boucher were at home too.
The young lad had accompanied Mary. He was quite shy at first but with time, the old tutor and the young child started to bond and talk. He asked Dixon to give Tom a few hot-cross buns to eat. Seeing them, he suddenly started to recite a rhyme, taking a few bites in between.
Good Friday comes tis mon', da old woman runs,
Wit one a two a penny hot cross buns.
"Good Friday was yesterday, lad. Now gobble 'em up or I shall eat 'em all!" Dixon mocked.
But little Tommy was too carefree and continued singing further with merry-
One a penny, two a penny, hot cross-buns;
If ye hav' no daughters, give 'em to ye sons;
And if ye no kind of pretty little elfs,
Why den good faith, e'en eat 'em all yeselfs!
Mr. Hale chuckled. Little Tom reminded him of his son Frederick and he was hit by a wave of nostalgia. Something about Tom's innocence and happiness was so similar to Fred himself. He imagined his family's happy days in Helstone. Easter back then was gleeful and jocular, with his two little children playing happily and being content with their blessings. Mr. Hale continued watching Tom and wiped a tear from his eye.
It had been almost three months since the Hales saw the lost son. He had been here during his dear mother's death. He wondered how Fred was doing and hoped his Easter goes well.
Tom, who suddenly witnessed the old man's silence, came towards him meekly. Mr. Hale smiled, picked the boy and placed him on his lap.
"Is somethin' wrrrrong, mister? Ye sick?" Tom asked.
"Ah, no, child. I am not. You just remind me of my– I mean, Margaret's brother."
"Miss Margret have a brother?"
"Uh, yes. She has."
"Where he hidin'? I canna see him nowhere!"
"Well, boy, he is indeed not here. He is in Spai–, well, he lives in London."
"Aye, I could ha' played wit him."
"I know. You remind me of him, Tom."
Tom Boucher, young and childlike that he was, couldn't know the Hales' secret. He wondered why Margaret or Mary never told him of her brother.
Just then, Mr. Hale felt like offering something to Tom. The family had safely kept several of Frederick's belongings as a treasure trove.
"Tom, can you wait for a little while? I might have something for you, dear."
The boy was puzzled and wondered. He had hardly come out of Princeton when his parents were alive but now he was in such a good house where the people treated him kindly. And now, this old man wanted to give him a gift.
Mr. Hale quickly went upstairs and sifted through his wardrobe. He had kept it all saved in a small trunk. He opened it and it had Frederick's toys, some of his paintings, a pocket watch, his gloves, a few of his dresses, and many others.
What caught Mr. Hale's eye was an old and vintage thumb bible titled 'The Little Picture Testament'. When Fred and Margaret were young, he and Maria had gifted them a book for their Sunday school visits.
He knew that he found the correct gift to offer Tom. The child might not know how to read properly yet, but the book had several illustrations, so he could revel in them.
"Here, child. Look at this. It's for you. A gift for Easter."
Tom received his gift and looked at it in awe. He flipped the pages and chuckled.
"Thank ye, mister! I trynna read and write now ya see. Book will halp me!"
"Indeed it will. I can help you read it if you wish, anytime. I am glad you love it, Tom."
Tom was the happiest he had ever been in his life that day. He smiled shyly and the next minute, embraced Mr. Hale. After spending some time at Crampton, Mary and Tom started walking back to the mill.
...
"The hands are happy for ye kindness, Thornton. Ye not believe in charity, nor do I. But offerin' some hot pot of meat to the hands will make the lot of 'em happy."
Mr. Thornton had arranged today's luncheon at the mill canteen to be different from the otherwise usual stew. He offered to provide the mill workers a portion of hot meat for their continued support, especially after the strike. His heart knew that he was doing all this inspired by Miss Hale's generous ideas, but his mind told him that it's simply a tact to have his workers stay loyal and hardworking to him. His mother had fumed and raised an argument against it in every possible angle. But he didn't give in to her opinions.
"No mention. It's Easter and I thought that such a deed will boost them further to work hard and stay motivated. Also, Mary is becoming a renowned cook."
"Ah, yes. All thanks to Miss Margaret and the old wooden spoon of a maid, Dixon!"
Mr. Thornton grinned. He knew that Dixon pretty much treats him and Higgins with the same disdain.
"Ah, here they are. Tommy Boucher and Mary."
Tom ran happily towards the master and Higgins. The latter picked him up and asked about the bun and book in hand.
"Aye, Dixie gave me a hot cross bun. And mister Hale gave me da book! It's nice li'l book with pictures and words. Easter gift, he sayed."
Mr. Thornton and Higgins smiled. They were glad to be friends of the Hales and often at times, the two spoke of them in kind.
"Ya know somethin'? He has a boy jus' like me, he sayed."
"A boy? I don't know of any boy as you say in Crampton, Tom." Mr. Thornton responded.
"Nay, he telled me. Miss Margret has brother like me. Lives in London. He no here, I know dat!"
Mr. Thornton assumed that Mr. Hale would have told Tom about Miss Hale's niece- Sholto Lennox. He had told a little about the Lennoxes to him often during their discussions.
The child was eager to show his gift to Mr. Thornton and he examined it. It must have been Miss Hale's thumb bible when she was a child, he mused. He suddenly saw some kind of note written on one of the pages, although smudged and obscure. He looked at it closely and his face contorted at what he read.
To dearest Fred and Margaret,
With love from your parents.
May this Easter bring you both happiness and all joy.
Who the dratted was Fred? A cousin of Miss Hale? No, because it says that it's from their parents? What does that mean? Mr. Thornton's mind flashed with a dozen questions.
"What is it, Thornton?"
"Well, I am… just confused. If you look closely on this page, you can read a note. It says the name of some Fred and Miss Hale's name and that it's from their parents."
Higgins and Mary shared a look. They both were aware of the Hales secret and had vowed to not say it to anybody. Now it seemed that the master had struck the nail right on the head himself. Mr. Thornton noticed Higgins and Mary's discomfiture.
He gave the book back to Tom and excused Mary. However, he wasn't yet done with Higgins. He called him to his office room immediately.
"Tell me Higgins, what's on your mind?" His voice was stern and agitated.
"Well, nothin'." Higgins stated as calmly as possible.
Mr. Thornton stared at him dangerously.
"I canna tell, Thornton. It ain't my secret to tell ye."
His words sounded so much similar to Miss Hale's words on the day he said he loved her no more.
"Higgins, tell me what it is at once. Trust me enough for this as it might save a great deal of misery for me and your miss." He demanded furiously. He wasn't able to stand that his brain was in sixes and sevens with every passing minute.
"Well, you read it yourself, Thornton. What do ye make of it?"
"I seriously don't know! It reads as if Miss Hale is not the only child of the Hales."
Higgins sighed. He thought it best to not mess with the master.
"You are right."
"Right? Does that mean…?
"She has a brother."
"She doesn't have a brother!", he sneered at Higgins.
"Aye, she has. My Bess knew it and told me long back. But now, Mary also knows. Man stuck in some sorta big problem, some mutiny or somethin' in a navy ship. Canna set foot in England ever. Has a price on his head but came to Milton during his ma's death. Fled the town soon that very night and out of da country."
"That very night? Which means…"
"... that the man Miss Margaret was seen with at Outwood was her brother." Higgins finished.
Notes:
Margaret's and Mrs. Brown's involvement in church activities is very much credible to the ways of the times. The 1840s and 1850s saw great increase in music and singing pursuits, also choral singing. Choral groups and hymn societies were started immensely. Sunday school encouraged hymn singing and children's participation in church.
Thumb bibles were prominent in the Victorian era. They were miniature books which offered simplified texts from the bible for children. "The Little Picture Testament" of 1839 mentioned in this chapter was an actual thumb bible by Isabella Child and published by Charles Tilt, a famous London bookseller.
